Halloween roses

We got a pumpkin, carved it, and two days later it was moldy, and melting on our counter. I carried it outside where I was going to gingerly place it on the ground when it started to completely collapse and I had to drop it quite suddenly and it smashed into a million pieces on the ground. It was raining and I looked to the window where the boys were watching my every move faces pressed against the glass. They were confused. I went back inside and they said "what happened to the pumpkin mom?" I searched my brain for an answer and every explanation seemed too long. They were something like this: You see the shipping takes so long to Juneau that most fruit and vegetables are on the verge of being moldy when they arrive. Then, your father insists on keeping the thermostat set at 70 so things melt quickly....I looked at their quizzical faces and just cut to the chase and said "it died." They seemed satisfied with that and have told anyone that will listen that our pumpkin died. But isn't that what Halloween is about? Skeletons, ghosts...

I went to the store and decided to start a new tradition, a dozen orange Halloween roses to remember and honor people that have died, since Halloween is the day that the veil is lifted between life and death. A rose for each person. I will tell a story to someone that remembers their life. This rose is for my grandmothers Alice and Margaret. I will tell stories to the boys about their great grandmothers they will never meet, but that a part of them lives on in me.
Happy Halloween Alice and Margaret